


That Depends On You

by amandaterasu



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Breeding, F/M, Impregnation, Knotting, Loss of Control, Loss of Virginity, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaterasu/pseuds/amandaterasu
Summary: The Warrior of Light has always hidden that she was an Omega, but it seems the Exarch is more observant than she expected.This fic uses the InteractiveFics Extension. Please set your substitutions as:(Y/N) - Your WOL's first name.(L/N) - Your WOL's last name.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 219





	That Depends On You

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time attempting an A/B/O Omegaverse fic, but they seem pretty popular so I thought I would give it a go. If you have a minute, please leave a review to help me improve!

(Y/N) (L/N), the Warrior of Light and Darkness, stepped back into the Ocular after another day running errands on the First. The Exarch had asked to see her before she returned to the Source, and she was curious what he wanted. It was always something interesting with him.

“There you are, my friend,” his smile was genuine, and he gave her a short wave with his crystal hand. “If it’s not too much trouble, could we have this conversation in my chambers?” G’raha’s cheeks turned a little pink. “It’s somewhat… embarrassing.”

She laughed and linked her arm with his. “The Crystal Exarch’s _private chambers!”_ (Y/N) teased. “How mysterious.” 

He said nothing, but smirked in response. Maybe if she’d been playing closer attention, she’d have seen the edge on his teeth, or heard the growl in his chuckle. Maybe then she would have been warned.

G’raha led (Y/N) to a large chamber, the crystal of its walls carved so thin that it served almost as windows, barely obscuring the view of the city and countryside beyond. Rather than a bed, the center of the room was recessed, and filled with pillows and blankets, almost like an Omega’s nest. But something was wrong with it - it wasn’t _right_. She couldn’t put her finger on what.

“It must be hard,” The Exarch said, shutting the door, “hiding what you are.”

“Hm?” She turned to face him, confused by his question, but he continued.

“I admit, you almost had me doubting myself. I mean, for you it’s only been a few years since I entered the tower, but for me, it’s been centuries.” He pressed his staff into the door and it clicked into place, a dizzying number of levers and catches locking them in the chamber together. 

“I only caught the barest whiff of your scent that day, when I sealed myself in here. Maybe I was wrong, you know? Maybe you aren’t an _Omega._ ” G’raha turned to face (Y/N) and his smile was predatory, a dagger that made something twist in the small of her back. Her hand moved, unbidden, to the miniature pomander on a chain around her neck, under her clothes.

“You should commend yourself, (Y/N), the ruse really is ingenious. You almost had me convinced that you _yourself_ were an alpha, or at least had been claimed by one.” He walked toward her, unhurried, and she felt her breath coming in shallow gasps. 

“G’raha?” She asked, and almost cursed herself. Her voice sounded weak and submissive to her ears.

“That must be how you got away with it for so long. People hold to the stereotypes too often. Surely, the Warrior of Light, the _Savior of the Source_ , she couldn’t possibly be an Omega. She’s too strong, too brave.” The Exarch laughed, and stopped in front of her, bemusement evident on his face as he stared into her eyes. “Much like how the Crystal Exarch, a wizard, a historian, a man who keeps to his isolated tower and never comes out, who shies from direct conflict and is always helping others…” His arm went around her waist and pulled her to him. “He couldn’t _possibly_ be an Alpha. Could he?”

She could parse his scent, then, now that he was this close, with his arms around her and his mouth to her ear. How had she not noticed before?

He chuckled and pressed his cheek to hers, the sharp contrast between his warm skin and the cold crystal sending shivers up her spine. “Give it to me, (Y/N).” Her momentary hesitation caused his grip to tighten, and when he said, _”Now,”_ it was more growl than voice.

She pulled the tiny pomander over her head, offering it to him. His cool, crystalline fingers lifted it from her palm while his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry, but the scent of another Alpha anywhere near _you_ is…” He crushed the charm in his fist, causing the stone inside to release a powerful burst of scent that dissipated almost as quickly. “Well, It’s something I can’t abide.”

G’raha stepped away from her, and moved to a large alchemist’s cabinet, dozens of tiny drawers filled with strange objects. “You’re quiet. I’m sure you have questions, (Y/N).”

The problem was that she had too many questions, and they all seemed to bubble up at once, crowding her throat and preventing any of them from slipping out. Wrapping her arms around herself, she finally managed to ask, “What are you going to do?”

“That depends on you,” The Exarch said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a small silver chain. “Provided you’ve no objections, though - I plan to keep you here until you go into heat, then take out half-a-dozen centuries of pent up sexual frustration on your body. With any luck, I’ll have bred you successfully, and that, as they say, will be that.”

(Y/N) took a step back in shock, but she had forgotten the recessed floor, and she stumbled, falling into the pile of pillows. The crush of her weight caused G’raha Tia’s scent to fill the air around her, and the knots in her stomach and back tightened even further. A moan pulled itself unbidden from her throat, and he laughed. The sound broke through the quickly developing haze over her mind enough that she could lift her head to see him reach toward the wall, carefully snapping off a single bud of crystal. He fiddled with it a few moments, then set it down on his desk, the chain now firmly attached to it.

“You’ll have to forgive that terrible nest,” he said, taking off his sandals and climbing into the pile with her. “To keep people believing I was an Omega, I had to fake it.” G’raha’s arms were about her again, and he brought her back against his chest. “Has anyone claimed you yet?”

“I- what? G’raha, I don’t -” (Y/N) stammered, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. Ten minutes ago she had been so sure of everything, and now she could barely string two thoughts together and her body was screaming at her to offer herself to him immediately.

“It’s a simple question, and probably where I should have begun.” He smiled, that sweet, innocent, affectionate smile, but his eyes were hard. “I need to know if there is someone I must fight for you. Have you been claimed yet? Have you been bred?”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” she managed to gasp out.

“Of course,” The Exarch replied, “but we’ll get to that later. Now, answer my question.” His hand slid down to her thighs, and they parted reflexively at the first brush of his fingers. “Has another had you, yet?”

“N-no,” she said, turning her face away, trying and failing to hide the blush that colored her cheeks.

“That makes this much simpler,” he said, and let his hand travel over the smooth curves of her inner thigh. “How often do you go into heat?” G’raha asked, nuzzling against her neck. 

(Y/N)’s arms went around him instinctively, and he didn’t fight it as she pulled him close. “I don’t know,” she whimpered. She hadn’t been this close, this physically _affectionate_ with an Alpha in years. “I’ve been suppressing it.”

“So you’re well overdue, then…” He brushed his teeth over the scent gland in her neck. “How do you suppress it?”

“Potion,” she gasped out, and he shook his head.

“Not anymore. Do you understand?” The Exarch’s breath rattled against her ear, and (Y/N) realized he was holding himself back, suppressing the urge to have her right then and there. “I have waited as long as I can, (Y/N). I won’t last much longer like this. I had told myself,” his voice was half-feral now, and the fingers stroking her skin were starting to scratch instead, “I had told myself that I would wait until you went into heat normally, and offer myself then - but not anymore. I can’t _wait_ any more. And your heat will just be harder on you if I take you too soon.”

G’raha pulled himself away from her and and stumbled back over to his desk, pulling on his sandals. “I…” he ran a hand through his hair. “These hormones are a curse, I fear - they will make me ruin things with you before I’ve had the chance to make you mine.” His laugh was high-pitched, almost hysterical. “I will leave, for now. You are welcome to stay here, in this room. Nest if you wish, whatever you like.” His shoulders were shaking, and he pointed to the little bit of crystal on a chain. “That can replace your pomander, if you should decide to leave. If you do not want this, if you do not want… _me,_ ” his voice cracked a little, but he soldiered on, “Then I at least won’t have to suffer another Alpha’s scent on you any longer, at least not until you’ve found one worthy of you. But I am going to go. I will leave the doors unlocked. If you leave, I will take it as a sign that this is not what you want, and we will leave it at that. I will keep your secret, and I pray you will keep mine.”

He stood up straight and took a deep breath, steadying himself. “If you are still here when I return, you will be too deep in your heat for me to control myself, not after all this time, not after the ages of dreaming of _you._ If you remain, you will be mine.” He reached toward the door, and his staff slipped easily back into his hands, the way opening once again. “The choice is yours.” Then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps vanishing into the Tower.

* * *

(Y/N) (L/N), the Warrior of Light and Darkness, Liberator of Doma and Ala Mhigo, Hero of Ishgard, and Savior of the Source, was wet. So very wet. And empty. Rational thought had abandoned her at last sometime after sunrise, but she didn’t care. Lyna had come, a few times, to see if she needed anything, and once last night to offer to take her from the tower if that was what she wanted. It wasn’t.

This room had been a trap. The crystal windows, a trap. The pendant he offered, a trap. These pillows and blankets all riddled with his scent, a trap. All of it, a devilish trap intended to catch one _specific_ type of prey. Now to see if he knew what to do with her. 

The door creaked slightly, and (Y/N) pushed herself up on her elbows to watch him come into the room. Unchecked longing filled his face, and he said… _something_. Her mind was too far gone to understand it, so she just spread her legs to show him her sex, slick and ready for him, then threw herself back on the pillows. A little fear murmured in the back of what remained of her mind. _What if he’d changed his mind?_

A moment later such worries were forgotten. The Exarch slammed the door, and fumbled a few times trying to lock it with his staff before it clicked into place. Then he was pulling off his robes, leaving red, then black, then white fabric on the floor as he approached. His cock was already hard, and she could see the start of his knot. (Y/N) rose to meet him, eager to begin, but he caught her around the waist and bore her down into the pillows.

More words tumbled out of him, words that made no sense, having nothing to do with her quickly-approaching breeding, so she gave them little thought. She tried to roll onto her stomach and present herself to him, but he shook his head, and pinned her on her back before he entered her.

His first thrust brought her mind back in stuttering fits and starts, and suddenly she realized she could feel his knot swelling inside her, pushing her walls as far as they could stretch, locking him into her until he had finished.

“G’raha?” (Y/N) asked, trembling around him. 

He huffed. “Oh, now you’re sane,” he grumbled, thrusting slowly. “I don’t know if I ca~an,” he whimpered as she felt his tip brush against her cervix, “but do you want me to… to stop?”

The thought of him pulling out of her now filled her with frantic desperation. “No, don’t you dare, don’t you _dare_ , G’raha.”

“Oh, thank the Twelve,” he breathed, and collapsed on top of her, losing himself to the need to rut. His teeth sank into her neck, scraping up the skin over her scent glands as he rode her into delirium. After a few moments, and the reassurance that he wanted this too - which came from his constant repetition of her name, near inaudible over his sobs of relief - her mind left her again, and she gave herself completely to the Exarch.

Each time she arched her back against him his hands tightened on her hips, and she found she loved the cool crystal scraping along her skin just as much as his soft hands. Every part of him was like that - everywhere she touched him and he touched her - smooth and soft in some places, rough and hard in others. 

G’raha was relentless and uncompromising now that he’d let go, but he was nothing like the Alphas she’d been warned about. He was not cruel, nor brutish, nor demanding. Instead, he was like the edge of a knife being dragged over her skin, or a piece of ice being run along her spine. A sharp reminder that things could be so much worse, he could break her if he wanted to, but he would rather pleasure her instead.

Maybe that was why (Y/N) had not left, why she stayed, why she made the nest and why she hadn’t pulled the suppressant potion from her bag despite it being right there. He had given her every chance to walk away, when most Alphas would not. She had always known some someday she would have to choose someone, if only because she couldn’t take suppressants her whole life, But from the moment he had revealed what he was, she knew it would be him.

His fingernails dug into her skin, and she realized she was screaming his name - “G’raha, _G’raha!_ ” - as if it could somehow save her from the climax she could already feel locking up her limbs. Then it hit her all at once, as if the Tower itself were collapsing in on her, and she clung to the Exarch - the only one who could save her from the fall.

(Y/N) felt his breath against her ear as he growled, “You’re _mine.”_ That was the last thing he said before his arms locked in place around her, pulling her whole body down around his straining cock while he came.

They were both still locked together, waiting for his knot to subside, when (Y/N) noticed her neck hurt something fierce. She moved one hand to touch it, careful not to disturb G’raha Tia - _G’raha Nunh, now,_ she thought ruefully - and was shocked when her hand came away bloody. 

When her eyes moved from her hand to his face, his eyes were wide, almost terrified. “Oh, Twelve take me for a fool. I…” He started shaking, her reluctant Alpha, and (Y/N) found it more endearing than upsetting. 

She interrupted his spiralling thoughts with a kiss, squeezing her legs around his waist to give herself leverage to pull him closer. “It’s all right. I wanted it anyway,” Her hands brushed his hair out of his face. “You warned me, didn’t you?” 

He smiled sheepishly. “I still should have asked you properly, rather than taking your consent to have you in heat as consent to bond you permanently.”

“Be honest with me - If you had been sure of what I am, you’d have been asking the moment I woke up in Lakeland.” 

The Exarch shook his head. “If I had known what you are, I’d have claimed you the first time I saw you in the Shroud. I’d have taken you into the tower with me.” He chuckled. “The Ironworks would have had quite a surprise when they opened the tower to find you and I and dozens of our children.” He nibbled at her neck, and she realized he was tugging at the edges of the bite, making it a little larger, a little more ragged, ensuring the scar would be more prominent.

“G’raha,” she began.

“No, didn’t you hear me, (Y/N), you’re mine now. If you can’t call me ‘Raha’, who can?” His smile was weak, but teasing.

She sighed and wriggled against him, and he slipped out of her, both of them groaning at the separation. “R-raha,” she said, blushing. “What are we going to do?”

“For now, my beloved, we’ll get some sleep. When we wake, if you’ve the strength and the inclination, we’ll go again, and repeat that until your heat is through.” He kissed her forehead. “After that, well… that depends on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this and want to read more of my writing, follow me on Twitter: [@amandaterasu](https://www.twitter.com/amandaterasu)!


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